


Deliverance

by lodgedinmythoughts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: An essence of Lokane but not Lokane-centric, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, F/M, Gen, I'm still wrapped up in my feels and possibly always will be, Mention of Time Stone, No Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: “I’ll pay her a visit myself,” he’d said a lifetime ago, never intending to follow through. Then the Mad Titan and his children rained down a massacre on what remained of his people—his people, yes, for in those last moments, he was Loki, prince of Asgard, son of Odin and Frigga, brother of Thor.





	Deliverance

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s one of the infinite possibilities as to what Loki could’ve been doing in that little nook of the ship by himself while the action carried on around him.
> 
> Title comes from the same name as one of the pieces from TDW’s soundtrack because I love the music of Thor so very much.

Loki had fought many battles. He had fought for his life many times over, had accompanied Thor, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three on their juvenile quests that more often than not devolved into physical conflict, had seen those skirmishes, at the very least, as opportunities to exercise his sharp skill of mind and magic and blade. To do what Thor could not.

He had done all this even before things would never be the same, when he discovered his true origin and became neither of Asgard nor of Jotunheim. And while they had never truly lay dormant, the resentment, the rage—of walking in Thor’s shadow, of having mistruths of such a caliber thrust upon him since infancy, of a lost identity—consumed him.

He’d come upon worlds and celestial bodies that would have had any being in the cosmos with a shred of self-preservation quaking in fear. He’d dealt with the one they called the Mad Titan, the one who currently stood before him, had made a bargain that bore his madman attempt to conquer a whole planet, an endeavor born from both fear of the consequence of failure and a hunger for the power—the illusion of control—promised.

Loki had felt many things in his life, but never had he felt what he did in that moment.

“I assure you, brother, the sun will shine on us again,” he told Thor, the blue cube glowing at his fingertips.

And with a few more words, he had the Tesseract falling from his willful hand and he was tackling Thor out of the way, Banner’s alter ego roaring and rampaging behind them. They all but crawled to momentary safety behind a wall of debris, and Thor turned to him with ragged breaths and a tired, battle-worn eye.

“Why did you do that, Loki?”

“Why not?” His breaths were similarly uneven.

“I can give you a million reasons why not. Now the Tesseract is truly out of our hands and Thanos can easily obtain it.”

“Would you rather I had let him kill you where you stood, then?”

Thor gritted his teeth and groaned, in pain or in frustration, or maybe both. “I would’ve escaped.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

Thor peeked past the wall of debris. “Banner’s not doing so well by himself. He needs help.”

“From you? Only if you have a death wish. This isn’t child’s play, Thor.”

“You think I don’t know that after all that’s happened? That’s exactly why I have to help. None of us will be able to defeat Thanos and his minions on our own.”

A final, resounding crash sounded from behind them, where Banner lay broken and defeated.

“I’m going,” said Thor, already turning away and getting up. “I don't know about you, Loki, but I won't waste time cowering in the corner a moment longer.”

He was gone, and a quiet rage simmered low in Loki’s stomach.

Then, unbidden, a thought came to him. And it was a thought he found most surprising.

Thor flew into his vision a second later, and he turned to look. Always so reckless. The fool had gotten himself captured again.

Cower. Loki didn’t cower. He’d mastered the ability to weigh every option within the frame of a nanosecond, and though he did not possess the gift of foresight, he fancied himself a perceptive creature. And it was that fancy that led him to consider the thought that had popped into his head mere moments ago.

Jane Foster.

Thor’s former mortal. The scientist who’d felt at liberty to greet him with a fist to the face at their first meeting, the human who’d somehow been able to contain the power of an ancient cosmic remnant within her veins and not perish. The woman who’d put on a tolerable facade of fear—though, it was likely it hadn’t been fully put on—as he shoved her into the dirt at Malekith’s feet, and the one he’d knelt over as the shattered, red pieces of the Aether hovered before them in an eerie dance.

For her kind, it had turned out, she was oddly formidable.

So, in the seconds it took for Heimdall to conjure whatever dark magic he could and send Banner hurtling through space, Loki had already made up his mind.

  


* * *

  


“And that’s what you believe will have us thrust into a new space age, so to speak?” the moderator asked.

Jane nodded. “Only time will tell. But there’s no doubt in my mind that with a healthy dose of optimism, a hunger for the unknown, and unbridled determination, we too will be able to call ourselves a true spacefaring species, however long it may take.”

The moderator smiled. “And that, I think, is as good a note as any to end on. Everyone, please join me in thanking Dr. Jane Foster for her time.”

The audience applauded as the two women stood from their plush armchairs and shook hands.

With their lapel mics set down, the moderator leaned in. “Thank you so much, Dr. Foster. It’s been wonderful having you on.”

“The pleasure was all mine. Thank you.” Jane turned and waved at the audience that stood and watched her every move. For a dizzying moment, her gaze roved over them unseeingly and her breath stopped short in her lungs. She would never get used to it, any of it.

Later, when she was escorted across backstage by a stagehand with a headset, she reminded herself to take a deep breath. She was in Washington, D.C. after having jetted back to the United States after a small tour across Western Europe, where she’d spoken in London, Hamburg, Geneva.

It never got easier. She wasn’t a natural science communicator. She was the one who holed herself up in makeshift labs with handmade equipment and stared at screens and monitors till her vision grew blurry. But with her firsthand experience of traveling through spacetime to a floating city that defied the laws of physics, she was the only known person qualified to relay her knowledge to the masses. And with her further, subsequent work on Einstein-Rosen Bridges, she’d gone from fringe scientist fighting for meager grants to fund her research to one of the world’s foremost astrophysicists. It was all she’d ever wanted, which was why the peculiar, underlying tension in her chest caught her off guard.

Sometimes, it seemed like a dream. To have the respect of her peers, her name out there, her work published in reputable academic journals and discussed among the scientific community.

And sometimes, it felt like a lifetime ago. Others, it seemed like yesterday, and in those moments, she was able to remember with startling clarity each flower and cloud of Asgard, every marvel she’d held at the seamless, sophisticated technology. She could remember the unwavering blue eyes of Thor, so filled with faith and earnestness that things would work out. The deep affection she’d held for him, the unprecedented loyalty she’d felt, even as he journeyed across galaxies unbeknown to her, fighting wars she might later learn about thirdhand, until it all became too much and too many pieces of her heart had been taken each time he disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

She remembered the acceptance she’d grown to feel afterwards, the knowledge that what they had would always be a part of her, undeniable in its part in leading her to where she was. Thor would always be inexorably tied to her, and she allowed herself a brief thought as to how he was doing. Where he found himself now. How he was holding up years after the death of his brother.

Loki. The so-called god of mischief. The being who terrorized Earth years ago and claimed the lives of countless innocent people in the name of mercy. The one who shoved her away when the swirling mass that would have sucked her into oblivion and ripped her apart atom by atom gained on them. The one who, on a barren alien planet, lay dying in the arms of his brother.

If it had been a play, he would have been a tragic character, finding redemption amid his quiet last breaths. But it hadn’t been a play, and as she’d stood in the distance, helpless to do anything but watch as the dust settled, she found she didn’t quite know what to feel.

Perhaps, she thought, he’d gained his coveted glory in death.

But she would soon discover the fault in those thoughts, for she entered her green room with the intention of heading to the en-suite, and passed the vanity mirror off to the side, and, through it, thought she spied a dark figure from the corner of her eye. And when she whipped around, her stomach lurched and her scream was caught in her throat.

She was backed against the wall, her every muscle frozen.

He was dead. She saw him die, light-years away. But there he stood, in the corner of her green room in Washington, D.C., in his worn garb and dark green cape, watching her silently.

She’d never believed in ghosts, but maybe she would after this.

“You’re not here,” she breathed out unevenly. She didn’t dare close her eyes for more than a second, not even in an attempt to banish his apparition.

“I am here, Jane Foster,” he said, palms upright and turned towards her in mollification, and his voice, so lifelike, so clear in the silence, sent a curl of fear through her heart. “But not in the way you think.”

“You’re dead, you’re—you’ve been dead for years.”

“I suppose you haven’t been in my proximity enough to become accustomed to my tricks.”

“Wha—you—” Every word came out as a breath, her chest heaving.

“I’m very much alive, I assure you, though I’m not sure how much longer that will last. Thor—” He took a step forward, and Jane dug herself further into the wall. “—is one of the few who remain of our people, and again, I’m not sure how much longer that will remain true. The other one of your planet, your Banner, is being sent back as we speak.”

Her mind reeled, unable to process the information he was giving. “What’s going on, what do you want? Why is everyone in trouble, why are you here?”

He settled his gaze on her, weary and surrendering and, perhaps, resigned. “I know not what will become of me, but perhaps the fates have willed me here, to my final moments, where I might find some measure of peace.”

The words spilled from his mouth against his will. Most disconcerting. He was sure he’d been the one to make the decision to come to her, in that ship in that distant galaxy.

But, he supposed ruefully, he wasn’t the only force in the universe capable of trickery.

He stepped forward again.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer.”

He granted her wish.

“How did you find me?”

“There are secrets of the universe I’m not quite convinced you’re ready to learn about, Jane. Secrets of magic.”

“But what do you _want_ , Loki? What do you want with me?”

“With you? Nothing.”

“Then why are you _here_?”

And finally, his silver tongue slipped forth the whole truth.

“I don’t know.”

“If you’re in trouble, if Thor—if Asgard’s in trouble, why aren’t you helping?”

“Asgard is gone. So are most of her people. As a matter of fact, the rest of us were on our way here.”

“Well, if you’re planning anything else here, you’d better not. You won’t get away with it this time, Loki.”

You won’t get away with it this time.

Time.

The beat of his heart ticked a second too long.

Jane Foster, clever mortal, indeed.

Then a strange sensation passed through his stomach, the center of his chest, felt by his illusion even across the distance. And he knew what had just happened.

He tilted his chin up to peer down at her. “You’ve given me a great deal to think about, Jane. A word of warning: he will be here soon, and the havoc I wreaked upon your world…”

She gulped.

“Is but a trifle compared to what he will do.”

“Who?”

But he was already disappearing.

Jane’s breath faltered as she watched him flicker from view, the bright flashes of his magic trailing in the wake of his illusion.

As quickly as he’d come, he was gone, and Jane was left clinging to the wall of an empty room with nothing to keep her company but exhaustion, confusion, and dread slithering insidiously through her veins.

  


* * *

  


Somewhere across the universe, Loki opened his eyes to a ship up in flames. Thor still sat away from him, silenced and incapacitated. He peered around the corner, where the former gatekeeper now lay dead, and saw Ebony Maw on his knees. Above him, Thanos regarded the gauntlet around his hand, another infinity stone now solidified in his grasp.

“There are two more stones on Earth,” he said. “Find them, my children, and bring them to me on Titan.”

“Father, we will not fail you,” the one called Proxima Midnight said, but Loki paid it no heed as he promptly emerged from his hiding place.

“If I might interject…” As he spoke, he found a grave sort of amusement in how they all whipped around to look, how they’d seemingly discarded him from their thoughts, likely viewing him as of too little consequence to be a threat. “If you’re going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that arena.”

“If you consider failure experience.” Thanos tilted his head down at him.

“I consider experience experience.”

Thanos simply smirked. Then Loki closed in, the picture of righteous conviction.

“Almighty Thanos, I, Loki, prince of Asgard…” 

He faltered then, but it would be played off as fearful deference, and met Thor’s eye after his single next word.

“Odinson. The rightful king of Jotunheim, god of mischief—”

The dagger was conjured in his left hand as he forced a bow.

“—do hereby pledge to you…my undying fidelity.”

He lowered his head and breathed, knowing those might be his last moments. His last act of defiance, a notion that had long ago become an old friend. Every choice he’d made, every road he’d gone down, all leading up to that moment. Having lived his entire existence in turmoil, with no family by blood and the ones who raised him gone from the realm of the living.

Frigga, his mother, whom he loved and who loved him.

Odin.

And Thor, the one who was and always would be his brother.

Across the Nine Realms, he’d sought power and glory, something to call his own. And what did he have to show for it in the end? A mere dagger that would be nothing in the face of the monster before him. But if it worked, Thor might be free. He’d see his brother dying, escape from his confines, fight back, bring down his enemies as he was born to do.

And if it didn’t work, Loki knew he would die a gruesome death. It would be slow, and it would be painful. But if Jane’s single resonating word turned out to bear any sort of meaning…

Loki wasn’t opposed to gambling. He’d done so many times, calculating each possible outcome and counting on his quick wit to win out should things go wrong. But to gamble with his life under the present circumstance was a near fool’s errand, he knew.

There was no time to think, however. He’d run out of options.

So he stopped thinking.

He moved swiftly, and it was no surprise at all when his arm was enveloped in the rippling blue waves of the space stone’s might, the tip of his blade a mere hair’s breadth from Thanos’s throat. He stared the Titan down, fought to do so even as he was hauled up by the neck and thrashing for his life.

Thor didn’t escape, and Loki should have expected it.

It became impossible to breathe, to think, but with the last reserves of his strength, he willed the Norns to cast the time stone, whose location was somewhere in the cosmos unknown to him, into hands capable and fearsome so that they might undo the abomination that was Thanos and all his sundry work. He prayed that his death might mean something, or that he even might never have died at all, none the wiser to the excruciating pain that coursed along his every nerve. But his dying wish might be for naught, for the time stone could have been lost to any and all for all time, or later to fall into the hands of Thanos himself.

If time was not on his side, he then thought, he would go out with a sharp tongue as his single, piercing weapon.

As he felt himself gradually withdraw from that plane of existence, Loki spoke his last words directly to Thanos.

“You…will never be…a god.”

He was vindicated to see in his last seconds, for a fraction of a heartbeat, a shadow of doubt in Thanos’s eyes.

And, with one final clutch, the universe turned dark.

His eyes did not close.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the opening scene countless times trying to get the timing of their conversations right and fit them within the proper timeframe. The sensation Loki feels near the end of his and Jane’s conversation is the shockwave from the space stone being attached to Thanos’s gauntlet. My idea here was that Loki decided to visit Jane (perhaps at the behest of the Norns?) because, unknown to him, it would lead to her giving him his little epiphany about time. I also had his illusion work so that his real self had to be still, with eyes closed, sort of like in the first Avengers where he had that meeting with the Other etc. while he was on Earth. I’m aware he can cast moving illusions while his real self carries on, but my rationale here is that projecting an illusion of himself across such a great distance of time and space requires more concentration on his part. This isn’t perfect and the motivations etc. might not be so plausible to some, but it’s mostly me getting to be a little cathartic months after Infinity War’s release. Please continue below if you don’t mind my ranting.
> 
> I’ve had some time to process the movie by now, and that’s why I’m not screaming into my pillow about Loki at this very moment. I have no idea what he had up his sleeve with the dagger thing, but I straight up refuse to believe he’s gone for good. Like, I get his death would actually _mean_ a great deal story-wise, ~~and ok maybe bringing him back from the dead again would be a little cheap~~ but boiiii there’s no way he sincerely thought a dagger would be a real match against Thanos. (I know Gamora killed him in a similar fashion with a knife to the throat in that fake reality at Knowhere, but I don’t know if Thanos had himself “die” just to maintain the facade or if that _would_ be a fatal injury for his actual self—he’s tough, idk what he can handle.) So to keep from curling up in a ball till the end of time, I’m gonna believe Loki knew what he was doing until next year, when we hopefully find out his ultimate fate and if the time or soul or any other stone has anything to do with him. Yeah, Loki’s done a whole lotta wrong, but if he was gonna go out, that was NOT the way he deserved, and yeah, Thanos wanted him to answer for his failure from the first Avengers movie, but if that really was the way he went out for good, that’s a HUGE disservice to his character and the cunning wit he’s known for having. Just my humble opinion.


End file.
